


Tyler Brandon

by Agathokakological



Category: Not Fandom Related - Fandom
Genre: Anxiety, Crimes & Criminals, Gen, Major Original Character(s), Mild Gore, Original Character(s), Original Fiction, Social Anxiety, mild violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-05
Updated: 2017-03-05
Packaged: 2018-09-28 14:13:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,172
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10113323
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Agathokakological/pseuds/Agathokakological
Summary: After being dragged out of their comfortable apartment, Tyler found themselves Bar hopping and clubbing, very reluctantly, with their friends. The night falls into a horror show when Tyler is forced into the back room of a club and things turn dark, fast. They find themselves on the run from the fresh hell that is their new life, trying to escape into a reality where they have control over their own fate.





	1. Act 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! I hope you enjoy my first attempt at writing an original story, sorry I know this is really for fandoms but none the less please leave comments! I love seeing what people think of my work since I new and I know that is very cliche but it's true sooooooooooo...

Tyler was dragged to a club one night with a few friends. Being an innocent introvert they wanted nothing more than to be as far away from this panic attack inducing mayhem. Unfortunately for them, they were dragged to that back room; the “real” night club as some might call it. Drugs, alcohol, plus loud music, people and bouncers and security who turned a blind eye as long as they got paid to let the fun go on. Kicking and screaming, Tyler was pinned down on a table while people stoned out of their minds did drugs off their body and shots in their belly button. Being picked clean like a carcass in the desert. Any time they tried to run, the guards and drunks would forcibly pull them back, down in again. Crying, lying curled up in a ball on the table, they started frantically and jerkily twitching around looking for any means of escape from this hell. Shakily, they spotted a blade someone had brought in, making a grab for it with trembling hands they stared down the nearest person. Hesitant to the point of questioning if they wanted to live that badly, they rammed the blade into the neck of a woman on the couch. Slashing and hacking their way through people too drugged and crazy to care. When the guards finally got wind of what was happening, they fought until they were collapsed on the floor. Taking in the horror of what they had done to survive, the world was spinning faster than any roller coaster, vomit was surely making its way up their throat. Shaking violently, so much it was hard to even stand, they bolted out a back door. What could they do? How many lives had they taken?! What was the next step? These questions flashes through so fast it was liking trying to follow a blender with your eyes inches from the blades. Tyler spotted a ladder, a fire escape that had been lowered, they stripped in the alley and scrambled up the ladder into a vacant apartment. Holding themselves up with the wall, they found the bathroom. Turning the water on hot, they washed the sickly sticky blood off their body as best they could. They could still feel it, even as they sat there, adrenaline pumping so hard it could make your heart explode. Holding a speaker full blast up to your chest could only compare to nothing next to this. Stealing clothes from the dresser, they slid out the door and finally collapsed in the hall of that haunting building. The screams still echoing, indistinguishable from every noise in the night; every bump they heard, every breath taken, smoke inhaled, drop of water brought a jump to their already fragile heart. Passing out until late into the morning.


	2. Act 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm too lazy to write up the notes and summaries up every time because I forgot to save them sorry...

The next step, what to do? It didn’t seem real, like a nightmare; but the memories didn’t lie. Lying on the cold floor of a practically empty building with the morning sun shining almost insultingly on their face. A dull ache fell through their body, pumping through their veins, lifting them slightly up on weak arms. Turning over to heave up their guts on the floor, they made their way to a standing position. Tyler just wanted to lay down and die, they barely felt alive as it was. The floor jerked and they had to lean on the wall, tears rolling down their face. Whimpering, feeling sorry for themselves, regret weighing down on their heart for everything that lead up to that night. No one heard or cared as they puked again and collapsed on the ground, shaking, cold and barely conscious. When they finally drew up enough strength to walk, they made their way clumsily down the stairs of the building and out onto the street, to be greeted by cigarette smoke, busy people walking home or hailing cabs from a night of hazy memories and drunken hook ups. The smell of booze did nothing to help the uneasy feeling in Tyler’s stomach. It took all their effort and some mind numbing pep talks to make Tyler check back down the alley they had escaped into last night. They gingerly plucked their wallet from their blood soaked clothes and slipped it into their pants pocket after wiping it off on their shirt sleeve. Pulling up the hood on the jacket they had acquired, they hailed a cab and paid the driver to take them home. The blinds were open and dust floated lazily in the air through the sunlight coming in through the windows. Suddenly, something warm and wet touched their leg. The first thought that came to Tyler's head was more blood, jerking their leg away back and whipped their head down to see what had caused it, and was greeted by the soft eared rabbit that hadn’t crossed their mind since last night. Dropping to their knees, they had completely forgotten about her. Stroking her as gently as physically possible, she snuggled into their palm, nose twitching happily. She hadn’t been fed yet, Tyler searched the cupboards and got out a bowl and went to reach for a knife to cut up some nice fresh vegetables to apologize for not coming home all night; they opened the drawer and glanced over the sharp blades, shutting the drawer forcefully and grimacing. Sinking down on the counter, they played with Rose’s ears and finally decided to just pull apart the veggies with their hands, much less violent. What to do next? The fucking question of the day. How could Tyler know they weren’t wanted for murder? How much evidence was left at that club? The world was ending and Tyler was at the damn center of it. The walls were falling and no one could save them. Rubble crowded their mind and pushed them to the edge, the knife drawer started looking very friendly; no worry or pain. Take it off my mind, I want to be away from a world where people have only the illusion of free will! Screaming, they furiously punched a the door to the tupperware, voice hoarse over sobs. Rose had jumped back in a panic and started hurriedly sprinting in circles. Sobbing and reaching for comfort, Tyler curled in a ball. Their apartment was dark now, as the sun began to set, leaving them in the dark, and the quiet. Falling asleep only after hours of silent tears and hiccups. The morning came quietly, Rose snuggled up close to their face. Tyler yawned, waking Rose who perked her ears up and wiggled her tail. Gingerly lifting a hand to pet her, Tyler knew they had to decide what to do eventual. Sooner rather than later, they were a murderer, and they’d bet the police had already had enough time to thoroughly search the back room if it hadn’t been covered up by the club owners. An impending time sensitive decision was working it’s way around their brain, they had a choice… but what to do?


End file.
